


almost and again

by babytobin_horse



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babytobin_horse/pseuds/babytobin_horse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"you're my best friend" does not mean the same thing as "i love you"</p>
            </blockquote>





	almost and again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [red_thread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_thread/gifts).



> this is kind of a mess, I just thought of this idea and wrote it up quickly, so I apologize if it's not the best, but you know...enjoy? let me know what you think? (also before you ask, no there will not be more for this fic)

The flight into the city is enough to put her into a state. The sight of Mount Hood in the last hour has Alex staring out the window, not even listening to her music anymore or amusing Ashlyn by paying attention to her antics. The blonde goalkeeper sitting next to her seems to understand almost immediately. She settles in her chair, giving Alex the peace she needs.

When Alex closes her eyes with twenty minutes until landing, all she can see is the mountain she’s seen oh so many times over the past three years. The mountain that meant she’d be home.

Home.

That’s in Orlando now, not here. That’s on the opposite side of the country. It’s with Servando and a dog named Blue and the hot Florida humidity. It’s not the Pacific Northwest with its greenery and it’s doughnuts and the lanky midfielder with the lazy, easy going smile permanently stuck on her face.

No.

That’s not home.

-

_“Dude look,” the midfielder gasps breathless._

_Alex looks up from the magazine she was reading, eyes wide and excited when she spots the mountain. “Oh my god, that’s amazing. I love this.”_

_She looks from the mountain outside to the girl sitting right beside her. There’s the easy smile Alex has always found so endearing, so comforting. She can’t help it when she smiles back, and when the smile widens, Alex knows it’s a special smile - the one that’s reserved just for her. Her heart swells, but the striker tries to pay no mind to it._

_“We get to see that every time we come home with a win.”_

_Alex laughs. “I can’t wait.”_

_She ignores the way she likes the sound of “we” that resonates in the air between them._

-

When they land, Alex bites her lip as her shoes step across the pattern of the PDX carpet. The sight is comforting, but at the same time it’s just a reminder of how different everything is now. How different it all is. More often than not, she’d be greeted by fans welcoming her home, kids asking her for autographs.

There is none of that now.

Now, she is wearing a purple warm up jacket with a different crest and no stars. She was standing around with a goalkeeper and not a midfielder as they waited for the rest of the team.

This is not what it used to be.

The forward’s eyes wander amongst her teammates. There’s an excited buzz, and Alex knows she should feed off of it, and for awhile she did - before she boarded the flight and realized the heaviness in her gut and the finality of everything she’s done. She meets Kaylyn’s eyes, then Lianne’s, then Becky’s and then Steph’s. They’ve all been here before, made season long trips in and out of this airport. For them, it was just during season - just a place that had the paycheck and the good soccer.

But for Alex, this had been a final destination for three years.

-

_“Lex, you’re pouting.”_

_Alex’s eyes look up from her phone and she sends a glare towards the midfielder. “I just want to go home and crawl into bed and not deal with the fact that I haven’t scored in forever and that we can’t seem to get a win,” she snaps rather harshly._

_Anyone else would’ve let it go, would’ve dropped it and let Alex be alone._

_Not this one._

_After years of being Alex Morgan’s best friend, and experiencing Germany and London and every game and camp in between, she’s well-versed in Alex’s moods. So instead of backing away, she leans forward and grabs Alex’s hand._

_Alex ignores the way her heart stutters. It’s not unusual - they’re more often touching each other than not, bumping shoulders, legs pressed together. This is what they do. They’re best friends._

_“Hey,” the quiet voice coos. “It’s not the end of the world, season isn’t over. You’re going to get your rhythm back, I know you will.”_

_“Yeah right,” Alex scoffs, rolling her eyes._

_She doesn’t admit to herself that the thumb running along the back of her hand is actually making her feel better._

_“I’m serious,” the girl next to her presses, more quiet and people pass by as they get off of the plane._

_Everyone seems to be moving but them. Not them. They stay right there where they are, hands clasped and heads bent together. Alex bets Allie’s seen them and has the biggest, most annoying smirk on her face._

_“Listen to me,” the midfielder begs, and Alex obliges as her eyes look up to meet the honey maple brown she’s gotten used to. “You’re Alex fucking Morgan, and even she’s allowed to have some bad days. This is only temporary. Don’t let it get to you.”_

_The forward lets out a long, defeated sigh, letting her head fall to the midfielder’s shoulder. “I hate this,” she mumbles._

_“I know you do,” the girl’s free hand is now rubbing Alex’s back in slow, careful motions. Alex swears she can fall asleep right here, like this. “But we both know there are little girls out there in the airport waiting for you. They’re here to see you - they know how great you are, Lex. They think you’re the best, because even though you’re not scoring and we’re not winning, you’re still Alex Morgan.”_

_Alex lifts her head to see those eyes looking at her with so much adoration it almost hurts. It hurts because Alex knows this isn’t just best friends - not by a long shot. She knows she could lean in. But she doesn’t. She can’t._

_Instead, she gives the hand still holding hers a gentle squeeze, offering a small smile. “Thank you.”_

_Alex doesn’t say the other three words, the words that are at the very back of her mind._

_“It’s what I’m here for.”_

_“You’re my best friend,” Alex says instead._

_She misses the way those pretty eyes grow sad at the statement._

_“You too.”_

-

They practice at the stadium the day before the season opener. Instead of Alex getting into her own car, waiting for her always late passenger and yelling towards the apartment to “hurry the fuck up or I swear to God I’ll leave you!”, the striker instead climbs onto a bus, sitting next to the window as Ashlyn takes the spot next to her. Instead of blasting out their current playlist of the month on their way to the stadium, having her passenger roll the window down and sing out to the street, she has her beats firmly sitting on her ears blasting her pump-up playlist.

Everything's different, nothing's the same.

When they arrive at the stadium, Alex’s heart beats faster. So many memories flood her at once. Her first practice here, the countless days she’d be in and out of the stadium - all of it. It’s right here, staring back at her. The red and green everywhere used to make her feel so at home, always brought a smile on her face.

Now it brings a hint of sadness.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it here,” Kaylyn says next to her as they exit from the tunnel.

Alex wants to say she doesn’t understand; she doesn’t know what it’s like to have this be a permanent home for three years - that they always welcomed her back, that she could’ve stayed forever if she wanted, it was always up to her.

“Me too,” she sighs quietly in response.

-

_“You would think after all this time home games would get less exciting,” the midfielder chuckles._

_“Hey, it’s always just as good as the first time,” Alex laughs, tossing a pair of practice shorts at her. “And it’s always good to be home.”_

_The girl only hums, not giving a full out response. It makes Alex falter, knowing she possibly said the wrong thing. She knows how the midfielder is about having a home and a permanent place of residence. Alex bites her lip, sorting the rest of her laundry quietly._

_“I don’t need a home when home is when I’m with the people I care about most.”_

_Alex looks up, slightly startled by the statement. The midfielder’s looking at her so reverently and deeply that Alex thinks she could drown right then and there. The air is suddenly thick with tension and emotion and everything they don’t say._

_“You’re my best friend,” she adds after too long of a silence._

_The forward swallows the lump in her throat. “Yeah, you’re mine.”_

-

Game day jitters isn’t a foreign concept to Alex. She’s experienced them for practically all twenty-six years of her life. This is so much harder to get over though, when she knows she could possibly be booed, to know she was playing in a place that was no longer on her side.

The visitor’s locker room is so much more different. It’s less personal, less familiar - not that she expected it to be, it’s just...weird. Laid out for her isn’t the black warm ups, it’s the baby blue top that compliments the purple she’s been seeing a lot of lately. On her left, Christine Sinclair isn’t stoically sitting next to her. They don’t share glances as they get ready, Alex doesn’t try to get a Canadian to dance and joke around. Mana Shim isn’t dancing around, being her free-spirited self. Allie Long isn’t going around, literally changing into her warm up gear as she wanders around and dances from locker to locker. There’s no Michelle Betos making fun of her.

She wonders what’s going on just a few doors down.

“Are you ready for this?” Ashlyn says, low under her breath as they gather for warm ups.

Alex lets out a shaky breath. “Let’s go warm up.”

-

_The locker room has settled quite a bit as the time ticks down. Everyone’s in their own locker, doing their own thing before the game. Alex’s eyes wander from each teammate, watching each one as they get their minds ready. When she comes to number seventeen she knows what she’ll find. There the midfielder is, head bowed down and fingers clasped together. Her lips are moving so quickly and Alex knows if she slides off her headphones she’ll be able to hear the murmuring despite how quiet it is._

_The sight slows the forward’s heartbeat down, just to see the girl in such a private, honest moment makes Alex feel like everything will be okay. It doesn’t matter what happens out there, as long as she has this girl right here as a constant thing in her life, she’ll be okay._

_The midfielder makes the sign of the cross and her eyes open, looking up when she feels Alex’s gaze. Honey brown meets blazing blue and for a moment they just stare, not needing words to read each other. Alex doesn’t know how they got so good at this - reading each other and understanding without a single word exchanged._

_She gives Alex a single nod._

_It’s all Alex needs before she steps onto the field._

-

Alex curls into her locker, letting the beat of the music drown out anything else. As the final seconds of the song fade out, she slides her headphones off, trying to keep her heart steady. There’s no brunette reverently praying to calm it down anymore. Deciding she can’t sit still, she moves to the chair in front of her locker, placing her headphones behind her.

She looks around, noticing the sea of purple that floods her vision. She looks down at her own jersey, the 13 so cleanly printed in white against the royal purple. On her arm sits the captain’s band, clean and new and ready for battle. When she closes her eyes, she sees the bright rose city red she’s known forever - sees the captain’s band on Christine’s arm next to her. She opens her eyes again, letting out a deep breath. She has to be in the moment. She’s here now as an opponent, no longer welcomed here like she used to be.

Everyone can hear the stadium announcer and the crowd from here. They’ve begun to announce the lineups and Alex holds her breath when they begin the Pride’s. Her stomach twists because she knows so strongly that she’ll be booed, that the people will feel like they’ve betrayed them. She looks towards the former Thorns players in the locker room too, wonders how the crowd feels about them being traded away.

For Steph, they cheer surprisingly loudly. It makes the Australian smile.

For Kaylyn, it’s the same. She laughs, looking down at her cleats.

Muffled, she hears it. “ _Number thirteen, Alex Morgan._ ”

Alex’s heart stops in that moment. She waits for it, the inevitable displeasure of the crowd at the announcement of the girl who used to claim this city as her own.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, the cheering is louder than before, so loud it’s hard not to hear it in the locker room. Alex closes her eyes and leans back until her back hits the back of the chair. Her breaths are slow, she lets the sound fill her ears. They don’t hate her. They still welcome her here, no matter what. They understand why she left and don’t hate her.

They don’t hate Alex Morgan.

And that should bring her a sense of relief, make her feel so much better.

But it doesn’t.

Just because the city doesn’t hate her, doesn’t mean a certain midfielder doesn’t either.

 

She’s in the tunnel, standing on the opposite side of where she’s used to. Instead of in the middle of the line, she’s place in the front. Ashlyn stands behind her, jumping up and down to hype herself up. Alex remembers a time where she’d be in the other line, dressed in red and black. She tries to forget.

“Hey.”

She turns, coming face to face with none other than Christine Sinclair. She smiles, the familiar face somewhat relaxing her. They pull each other into a tight hug, and then Alex realizes the other forward isn’t even in line.

“Are you not playing tonight?” she asks, pulling away

Sinc shakes her head. “Achilles issues. I’ll be fine though, just for a game or two.”

Alex nods, then something comes to mind. “Wait, then who’s going to be captain?”

All the Canadian offers is a small smile. “I’ve gotta go, we’ll catch up after.”

Before Alex can question her again, the striker is jogging out of the tunnel towards the benches. She wonders why her question went unanswered, but then her heart beats quickly as someone comes to take the captain’s place. What usually is Christine Sinclair’s place.

“Tobin!” Ashlyn yelps rather excitedly. “Look at you, captain tonight!”

The midfielder laughs, allowing Ashlyn to pull her into a hug. “Yeah, Sinc’s injured tonight so I guess I was next in line.”

“That’s great!” Ashlyn says, patting her on the back before letting her go.

The sounds are so much louder in the tunnel, with everyone buzzing and no one being able to quite settle down despite the staff’s attempt. Alex tries to look away, but her eyes are caught on the captain’s band on Tobin’s arm and before she knows it she’s looking back up to meet those brown eyes that make her so weak.

 _This could’ve been you_ , Tobin doesn’t say.

 _I know_ , Alex doesn’t reply.

There’s a mix of emotions in the midfielder’s eyes that Alex can’t and doesn’t want to read. She instead faces forward, holding the hand of the child that’s been given to her for the national anthem. She can’t think about this now. Not when she has a game to win.

-

_“Tobin, are you going to make it into the team huddle or keep jumping around for another two minutes?” Alex asks, feigning annoyance._

_Tobin laughs - oh God how Alex loves that laugh. “I’m coming,” she says as she slows her jumping. She jogs over, putting her hand on Alex’s shoulder like she’s done so many times before._

_Always touching. Always._

_Sinc gives her final pre-game speech, getting everyone ready for the game that lies before them. And not to take anything away from her - she’s a great captain - but all Alex really needs is the reassuring squeeze Tobin gives her shoulder as they chant before breaking away._

_“It’s go time,” Alex says as they all pull away and go to their respective positions._

_Tobin gives her a wicked grin. “Let’s go get em, Lex.”_

-

Tom’s content at halftime - actually, even more than content. He’s so pleased with Steph that Alex thinks he might explode. She’s been in halftime talks with Tom before on the national team, and she has to say she likes them a lot more than any other coach. Sure, he yells (and it may be slightly funny because of his accent) and gets on them, but he’s a lot better than, say Paul Riley ever was. Maybe even CPC.

“Defense I need you closing in tighter when they attack, keep them on the outsides, don’t let them get numbers in the box,” he rattles off.

Alex is only half listening because she’s sitting in the visitors’ locker room at Providence Park and her team is tied 1-1 against the Portland Thorns.

She thinks about how frustrated everyone must be only a few doors down. How they’ve let the newcomers walk right on in and score on them (nevertheless have it be a former Thorn to deliver the blow). It’s a tight game though, and Alex wants to win. She wants more than anything to win.

To show them how good Orlando is for her, how it was the right decision.

To show _her_ why this matters.

-

_“Alex.”_

_It’s breathless, but fierce and all things that just aren’t Tobin. Alex doesn’t turn around._

_“Hey,” the midfielder tries again, this time her hand grips around Alex’s wrist. She tugs, forcing Alex to stay behind as everyone else clears the locker room for second half._

_“What Tobin?” she almost snarls. “What could you possibly say to me right now?”_

_“You’re not going to score out there if you don’t get out of your head,” Tobin warns her, grip on Alex loosening only a little._

_“I don’t know if you’ve noticed Tobin,” she spits out rather sarcastically. “But I haven’t scored in a month now so I don’t think it matters if I am or not!”_

_“No, hey,” Tobin tries gently this time, her free hand gripping the bottom of Alex’s jersey and pulling her in a little closer._

_Alex tries not to think about how close they are right now. Doesn’t think about how she feels like she’s on fire._

_“Listen to me,” the older one says quietly. “You’ve got to get out of your head, Lex. Don’t let this bullshit get to you. Play for yourself, play for your family. It’ll all come then.”_

Play for me _, she doesn’t add._

_But she doesn’t need to._

_The striker lets out a defeated sigh, her whole body slouching. Tobin’s grip shifts from her shirt to Alex’s waist, holding her steady. The hand still holding onto her wrist moves ever so slightly so Tobin can rub her thumb against Alex’s hand gently. It’s soothing, so soothing Alex almost doesn’t want to go back out there._

_“How do you always do this?” Alex asks, looking at Tobin with wide, questioning eyes. “Why do you always know exactly what I need?”_

_Tobin gives her a slow smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. This one is a new one she’s reserved for Alex, one that’s been coming more often than not. It kind of breaks Alex’s heart._

_“I’m your best friend.”_

_Alex swallows, ignoring the words they refuse to say. “I know.”_

_They both ignore the ring sitting pretty on Alex’s hand._

_“Now let’s go, we have a game to win,” Tobin says with finality._

_She’s just about to pull away when Alex suddenly wraps her arms around Tobin, pulling her into a hug. Tobin’s initially surprised, but she wraps her arms around Alex’s waist securely. They’re sweaty and tired and still have another forty-five to go, but in this moment none of that exists. It’s only Alex and Tobin in ways it always is when it’s just the two of them. So many words they don’t say just hang between them, right here in this moment._

_“You’re my best friend,” Alex whispers, closing her eyes._

_She doesn’t let herself think about what she wants to say. What she should’ve said - everything she let slip through her fingers._

-

They lose.

It’s 2-1 by the end of it, Lindsey Horan coming in with the game-winning goal for the Thorns. Alex shouldn’t be surprised, the kid’s amazing and with everything Portland has going for them tonight it’s kind of meant to be. It drives Alex’s competitive side insane, knowing they could’ve won but they didn’t. Knowing she could’ve scored in the place she used to call home, on the people she used to call family.

They almost had it. Not quite.

Everyone’s making their rounds, hugging and laughing and letting out exhausted breaths. Alex pulls Mana into a hug so tight and needy, knowing the hawaiian needs this just as much as she does.

“I miss you Alex,” Mana says softly.

Alex sighs as she releases her. “I miss you too, ManaMana.”

There are pats on the backs, “good job out there”s, more hugs, high fives, jokes, and Alex wonders if she can make it through without finding her. Would it be a reasonable thing to do? But it doesn’t last long because soon she finds Tobin in the middle of the crowd, only a few feet away from her. And Tobin sees her too.

Somehow they always find each other.

“Hey,” Tobin finally says, walking over to her.

“Hi,” Alex nods, feeling breathless.

And it’s not like they never see each other, because they just saw each other last week in Pennsylvania. It’s just now everything’s so much more different, everything is really settling in. This is not Alex’s home. This is not where she belongs.

Before Alex can second guess herself she pulls Tobin into a tight hug, and for a moment Tobin freezes. Alex thinks she’s made the wrong move, but then Tobin relaxes and hugs her back.

“You look good out there,” Tobin mumbles into Alex’s hair.

The striker closes her eyes, letting herself revel in everything she used to have. “You do too.”

Eventually the midfielder pulls away, but they both stay there, looking at each other. “Look at us, both captains now.”

“Yeah,” Alex nods, trying to understand everything going on in Tobin’s head. She can’t, not anymore.

They’re silent for a few more moments, just beats of nothing but looking at each other.

“It’s so weird doing this without you,” Tobin finally says quietly, eyes flickering around.

The younger one lets out a shaky breath, nodding. “I know.”

It’s the worst thing about it all, though. They look at each other and both know the other is broken - neither one came out of this unharmed. It got messy and complicated and everything that they weren’t when they were simply together, but the decisions had been made. Alex wishes she could go back in time and do things differently. To show Tobin she would’ve tried to work it out if she’d seen it coming.

For the first time, Alex looks at Tobin with sad eyes and a sad smile. “You’re still my best friend.”

Tobin, jaw tight and and eyes tired replies, “You're still mine, too.”


End file.
